Retarded Stuff Novels & Stories

She had so many pictures and videos to share with her friends, that she refused to spend hours uploading it all twice, first to F******k and then to the Hey, Jay! Jim frowned when she sent him a link to F******k. “Come to Suckerborg county to take a look.” Barbara was getting dressed for the opening of an art gallery they’d been invited to, and it looked like he had time to read Shakespeare’s complete works before she was ready. “I’ll be downstairs,” he said. He grabbed a beer and a joint and went to sit by the swimming pool, at the deck opening to the beach three hundred feet away. He took the time to see every picture and watch every video.

Poppy and I simultaneously leaned forward to put our coffee mugs down on the thick wooden coffee table in front of us. Both Alpha Brock and Beta Pete looked as if they could do with more than just a coffee themselves. Their barely aging faces looked stony and cold, beyond annoyed, frustrated to fuck and just plain old fed up.

"You… you’re lying! I get it. You don’t want to give him back, so you purposely registered him with a younger age!" Everyone burst into mocking laughter. They all thought Sophie had gone mad. Just then, Professor Helen Ward from Sterling University stepped forward. "You’re the one lying. If what you’re saying were true, his admission to the Young Innovators Program would be revoked immediately. I will report this to the Department of Education. And I will also request a police investigation, because Miles Harper was fifteen when he applied."

it's not late yet, I can still fix it. I have to fix this and this time, I wouldn't fail.

"Ivy, you know how stubborn I can be. I wanted to prove to you that 18-year-old Rodney could keep loving you. For five years, ten years, twenty years… "But, when you see this letter, I guess it means my love for you has reached its final rest. "I never regained the memories from when I was 28, but images of you, pale and frail, kept popping up in my mind. I guess I must've really, deeply hurt you. "Ivana Fletcher, the 18-year-old Rodney Luther really, really loves you. And he'll keep loving you for a very, very long time."

Anything. Nothing.

Not one had jumped on the trend and started trashing me. For three days, they had done exactly two things. Finished their work. And quietly asked Michelle if I was okay. I smiled. My first real smile in three days. "The bad apples are gone." Sharon's eyes instantly turned red. Henry rubbed his nose and looked away. "But our vacation is just getting started." I pulled another document envelope from inside my jacket. Not the one I'd put on the table earlier. A different one. "The Department of Labor required the company retreat to be canceled. I complied."

Pressure built fast in my core, but just as I was about to tip over the edge, he stopped. I let out a frustrated, broken sound. He walked away from the desk for a moment. When he returned, he was holding something new. “I was hoping to save this for later,” he said, voice low and amused. “But a crazy slut like you will probably like it now.” My mind had already been so scrambled, I didn't even notice when he'd walked back. “I was hoping to save this for later. But a crazy slut like you will probably like it now.” I had no idea what he was referring to.

What a joke. "You know that you can just admit defeat right now, right? I suggest that you pack your bags and go home. Forget about your love for Neal because it's useless. It would only hurt you more, you know? Why don't you pity yourself? Besides, I'm already here. The only one that my Mr. Babe needs."

He never was. “She’s overweight. A fatso!” His eyes swept over me with open contempt. “Barren, as far as I can tell, after four years of trying. She doesn’t even have a wolf of her own — did you all know that? My Luna, and she can’t shift.” He shook his head, feigning regret so convincingly that half the room actually believed it. “I deserve a real Luna. A woman who can give me an heir, who can stand beside me as an equal.” “You were never even good in bed,” he added, almost as an afterthought, like it was the cruelest insult he could think to add. “Boring. Predictable. I stopped looking forward to touching you a long time ago.”